


Lost to your Reflection

by Muccamukk



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angry Sex, Angst, Drunk Sex, Established Relationship, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mirror Sex, Post-Canon, Reunion Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 14:31:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17469371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muccamukk/pseuds/Muccamukk
Summary: It's the first time they've seen each other since the end of the war. Nix wants to go out drinking. Dick wants something else.





	Lost to your Reflection

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TwoAxes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwoAxes/gifts).



> Based on the description of Dick and Nix's night on the town in _Biggest Brother_ , hopefully with a happier future ahead of them though.

By the time they got back to Nix's club, Dick was about ready to burst into flames. When Nix had invited him down to New York for a visit, Dick had assumed they'd meet Nix's parents, talk about the factory job, maybe see a show. Most importantly, he'd thought they'd call it an early night and spend some time in Nix's suite getting to know each other again.

It had been three months since Nix had left Europe for the States, and Dick had missed him every damn day, and spent every night imagining they were in bed together. Dick had spent his month back in Pennsylvania mostly sleeping and dreaming of what it would be like to be together again, now back on home soil and free of the army. He'd imagined meeting up with Nix in some place like this, and slowly stripping him out of his suit and making love to him with a freedom they'd never had in Europe. Of course, they'd have to be careful here too, but it wouldn't be the same as the army watching every move.

Instead, Nix had dragged Dick to what he figured was just about night club in New York, including a couple in the village that Dick was not comfortable wearing his uniform in. Dick had sat on the edge of his seat sipping coke and wishing he could vanish, while Nix got drunker and made eyes at the bartender, then at a pretty young man across the room, then at a young lady who Dick suspected was there in a professional capacity. After bar number four, Dick was starting to wonder if this was some kind of test, but for the life of him he couldn't tell what it was a test of. His loyalty? His tolerance? Certainly, by bar number seven, it had pushed Dick's patience beyond the breaking point. 

He realised his hands were balled into fists when they got in, and that he was seconds away from hitting something—probably the wall—and made himself cross the room to yank the curtains shut. Nix disappeared into the en suite, which got him out of the way of Dick's temper, but then stayed in long enough to rile it up again. What the heck was the point of inviting Dick to stay with him if Nix didn't even care to see him?

Dick knew he should probably call the night a bust and start getting ready getting ready for bed, but his Class As felt like armour, and he didn't want to so much as loosen his tie. Instead he paced the room, examining the furniture from the velvet curtains to the dark wood of the writing desk to the monogrammed door knob. Nix's suitcases were open and their contents haphazardly spread across every chair and couch in the sitting room, a bottle of Vat 69 leaving a ring on the mantle above the fire place. Dick moved the bottle and rubbed at the mark with no luck. He twitched open the curtains and looked down at Grand Central Station, blazing with light as Dick hadn't seen it since before the war-time brown outs.

"It's over now," he said, but Dick didn't believe it any more that time than he had every other time he'd tried to tell himself that since he'd gotten home. The only part of the war that really felt like it was over was his affair with Nix.

Dick was just about to have a go at breaking the bathroom door down when Nix came out on his own, stripped this his shorts, undershirt and socks, hair rumbled. He'd brushed his teeth but still reeked of whiskey even from six feet away.

"Yours if you want it," Nix said, gesturing behind him. His words slurred a little, and Dick snapped like a rubber band that had been pulled too far.

"Yeah?" Dick demanded. In two steps he was standing nose to nose with Nix, who blinked at him, as though he hadn't realised that Dick was there at all and was now startled to find him in proximity. The look of dull surprise only fed Dick's anger. He took Nix's face roughly between his hands and asked, "What about you, Lew? Are you still mine if I want you?"

Nix shook his head, not denying Dick's question, but trying to put his thoughts into gear. He focused on Dick's face, and frowned. "What else would I be?" The man had the gall to sound offended, like he didn't think Dick had the right to ask.

"I don't know. How about you tell me, huh?" Dick said, but before Nix could say anything, Dick kissed him roughly. Nix's mouth was pliant under his, unresisting, but also unengaged. The soda of Nix's tooth powder did nothing to cut the taste of booze in his mouth. Dick thought he could get drunk just kissing Nix, so he pulled away.

"What's gotten into you?" Nix asked. He ran his hands up Dick's sleeves, not protesting the treatment, but clearly still unaware of what was going on. "Take your jacket off, for Christ's sake. Relax for once."

It wasn't the first or even the tenth time that night that Nix had told Dick to relax. He'd had enough. Dick took Nix by the shoulders and spun him around so that he faced the dressing mirror against the far wall. With one arm holding Nix's hip like Dick was preparing to grapple him to the ground, Dick yanked Nix's undershirt over his head and then wrapped the other arm across his chest, pinning Nix's back against Dick's body. Nix's ass pushed back into Dick's crotch, and Dick almost flinched at the contact. Dick's chin slotted above Nix's shoulder and they both stared at their reflections: Nix pale and naked save for shorts and socks, the olive drab of Dick's uniform jacket a stark band across his chest. Nix's rumbled dark curls black in contrast to Dick's slicked-back red hair.

Nix met Dick's eyes in the reflection, and raised and eyebrow. "So it's like that, huh?" he asked.

"Yeah," Dick agreed, even if he didn't quite knew what either of them meant. "It's like that."

Dick pulled down on Nix's shorts until they cleared his hips, and Nix kicked them away, eyes never leaving Dick's not even when Dick wrapped his hand around Nix's slack cock.

"Don't know if you're going to get anywhere with that," Nix said, voice surprisingly steady. "I'm pretty well blazed."

"We'll see," Dick muttered, annoyed by yet another barrier between what he wanted and what he had. He'd waited so damn long to have Nix naked in his arms again, and now it felt all wrong. Yet the shame and consternation only seemed to fuel the anger burning him up, not douse it. He pulled at Nix's cock, feeling his own harden as if in response. Nix sucked in a breath, and let his head fall back, breaking their locked gaze so that he could kiss Dick's neck. Dick turned his face to meet it. He didn't mind the whiskey this time. Nix's mouth was eager and responsive now, even if other parts of him weren't. Nix's hand came up to clutch Dick's arm across his chest, and Dick tightened his hold. He wanted to hold them together so that they could never fall into two separate ways again.

The angle of the kiss had to be putting a crick in Nix's neck, but he wouldn't give it up. His lips pulled at Dick's, sideways and awkward, while Dick looked through Nix's hair at their entwined reflections. The way Nix was writhing and wanton in Dick's arms, the way Nix would have twisted around to put his hands all over Dick, if Dick hadn't been holding them locked together. Dick felt pride mix with shame at how easily he could manhandle Nix into any position he wanted and hold him there, and could do it drunk or sober.

Dick pulled away from Nix's hold on his arm and ran his hand down Nix's chest and across his belly. His hands had started to get softer and smoother in the months since daily PT routines, and his callouses no longer dragged across Nix's skin the way they had in Austria. It didn't matter. Dick's touch still made Nix wriggle against Dick, even though Dick's medals and buttons had to be digging into his back. Dick raked his nails up across Nix's stomach and chest until he could pinch Nix's nipple sharply enough to make him gasp into Dick's mouth.

That finally made Nix's cock twitch in Dick's hand. Dick slowly pulled along its length, keeping steady even pressure. Nix wasn't hard yet, not really, and would take awhile to get anywhere, but Dick had all the time in the world. He stroked again, going slow, drawing Nix's arousal out of him, and trying to ignore how much his own cock ached and throbbed against the inside of his uniform trousers. He could grind himself off against Nix's bare ass without either of them laying a hand on him. Dick made himself think back to those hours in the bars, and his anger, and the taste of whiskey in Nix's mouth.

As Dick's hand roamed over Nix's chest, Nix reached up behind him to grab Dick's hair and hold their mouths together, as if he thought Dick was trying to get away, as if Dick weren't the one holding onto him. Dick's eyes watered at the sharp pull on his scalp, and responded to the implied command by kissing Nix harder, so hard their teeth clacked. Dick pushed his tongue into Nix's mouth at the same time as he twisted his hand around Nix's hardening cock. Nix groaned again, and sucked at Dick's tongue in a way that made Dick want to push Nix to his knees in front of him.

Only that would mean breaking contact with the mirror and Dick couldn't bring himself to look away. He wanted to record every moment of what this looked like, burn the images onto his mind like silver nitrate. Who knew if this would ever happen to between them again. Nix's cock was thickening and dark against Dick's pale hand. He could feel it twitching as it hardened, and Nix's hips beginning to rock forward against Dick's hand and backward against Dick's body.

Nix was still kissing him and making needy, pleading noises that made what he wanted pretty damn clear, and his hand left Dick's hair for the back of his neck, kneading the muscles there. Dick hadn't thought about what he was going to do. He wanted to thrust into Nix, or push between his legs, but he didn't want to stop touching Nix long enough to get his pants open. He set his teeth against the exquisite friction caused by Nix's ass rubbing against the front of Dick's pants, and kept stroking Nix.

Dick pulled away from the kiss and rested his cheek against Nix's, their stubble itching against each other. "Look at you," he said, and Nix's dazed eyes again met Dick's in the reflection. Dick saw, as if for the first time, what he himself looked like: his bright hair now in disarray and falling onto his forehead, his expression set and determined, even though spit form their kisses made his lips and the corner of his mouth glisten. Nix's gaze dropped down, to were Dick still held his cock, his movements paused. "Damn, you're easy," Dick said, and though he meant it as a barb, his voice came out warm.

"Never said I was anything else," Nix muttered. He dropped his hand to cover Dick's, and got them both moving again. "You've gotta go and make everything"—he laughed—"Jeez, I just about said hard."

"I do that too, don't I?" Dick answered. He sped up a little, stroking Nix off with firm steady pulls. It'd be better with something to ease the way, but neither of them moved to get it. Nix watched their hands on his cock, and Dick watched Nix's expression and tried not to squirm. Their hips started to rock together, even though Dick's uniform lay between them. Dick felt his pulse quickening and the prefect pleasure of having Nix in his arms and being able to touch every part of him building and building. He wanted more, to be skin against skin, but part of him still wanted that uniform as armour and Nix utterly vulnerable to Dick's touch. Dick's hand climbed to Nix's throat, and he felt up it until his fingers pressed against Nix's pulse point. It seemed to beat in time with Dick's own, fast and hard, and Nix's panting breaths rasped against his palm.

It was the first time, Dick realised, that he'd touched Nix's throat without brushing dog tags out of the way. The first time he'd seen Nix without them.

Nix let go of the back of Dick's neck, and for a moment Dick thought Nix would try to pull his hand away and free his throat, but he only gripped Dick's wrist, his fingers sinking into the flesh of Dick's arm. Their hands moved faster on Nix's cock, and Nix's eyes never left Dick's in the mirror. He'd come back to himself with that touch to his throat, and now the intensity of his expression matched Dick's.

He was looking at Dick as though every moment of their encounter had meaning, and he was trying to parse what it was. Nix was looking at Dick like this was the only moment of their lives that truly mattered.

Dick squeezed and dragged his hand up Nix's cock, too fast and hard for anything but pain leading to release. Nix shot across the mirror, his come marring the reflection of his legs. He let his head fall back against Dick's shoulder, exposing his throat to Dick's touch and his kisses, and let out a reverberating groan. Dick held his cock until it went completely slack again, then wiped his palm on Nix's thigh. He was holding Nix upright now and shifted his grip to brace him around his stomach and chest until Nix got his feet back under him.

"I got you," Dick murmured against Nix's neck. He kissed the hallow under the corner of his jaw, and rubbed his hand across Nix's chest. His body was slick with perspiration, and his breathing still sounded ragged against Dick's ear. Nix closed his eyes and swallowed hard, throat rippling against Dick's lips. He caught his breath a little after that, and turned his head to kiss Dick again. It was a lazy, sloppy affair that lasted a long time, until Dick himself ran out of breath.

"So," Nix said when he could stand again, "turns out that I missed you."

"Damn funny way of showing it." Dick's whole body thrummed with unsatisfied desire, and his cock still ached.

Nix sighed and pulled away from Dick arms. The change in focus from their reflection to real Nix standing in front of Dick jarred him, and he found himself blinking and unsure. The room seemed blurred save for Nix standing there naked, and Dick couldn't work out how to go on from here.

"How about you let me try again, huh?" Nix asked, his voice soft. He ran his knuckles across Dick's cheekbone, the slightest caress, but it made Dick shiver like he was the one who was naked.

"Okay," Dick said, incapable of anything more complicated.

Nix took his hand and pulled Dick towards the over-sized bed. When Dick was sitting on the edge of it, Nix methodically stripped off his uniform, then his under things. Dick let him, helping when prompted, feeling oddly drained, as though he'd come already.

Then Nix pushed him flat back onto the bed and crawled up after him to wrap his mouth around Dick's cock. The intensity of the sudden warmth and the sweet pressure of Nix sucking hard made him come in seconds. Dick cried out and pounded the bed with his fists, while Nix kept his mouth on him until he was finished.

Dick closed his eyes, utterly exhausted. He half looked when he felt Nix crawling up the bed to lay on top of him, but blinked at the mess of dark hair in his face as Nix settled in. Dick kissed the top of Nix's head and flipped the comforter over them. Nix snuggled down, and Dick was pretty sure he'd go to sleep in a moment.

The only thing Dick wanted more than sleep was some feeling that this wasn't going to be the end for them, some kind of goodbye tour.

"What are we doing?" Dick asked.

"Mmm?" Nix replied. "You mean aside from..."

"Yeah." But then Dick couldn't think of a way to describe the premonition he'd had, of the months or years ahead of Nix's drinking, of Dick constantly pushed to the side until he snapped and pushed back, of sex instead of talking, of loneliness. Dick knew that he wouldn't be able to do it for long, no matter how much he loved the times when he and Nix came together. No matter how much he loved Nix.

"Dick?" Nix raised his head to look at him, but Dick kept his eyes closed. He didn't want to see the end coming either. Nix kept insisting, though. "Dick, hey, something the matter?"

"Yeah," Dick said again.

Nix kissed him then, small solicitous kisses across Dick's lips and cheeks. "We'll fix it," he said in Dick's ear. "Come on, we always do. You know that."

Dick hesitated, knowing how promises Nix made in these soft, expansive moods often panned out. He couldn't think of another choice, though: it was try or just give up. "You have to promise to try," Dick said.

"Dick, what is going on with you?" Nix had stopped kissing him, and sounded serious, almost sober.

"Nothing that won't keep," Dick said. "Let's talk in the morning."

"Sure, anything you want," Nix said, another easy promise.

They got properly under the covers after that, and Dick held Nix tight against his chest, but it took longer to sleep than it should have in that wide, soft bed, listening to Nix's even breathing.

But in the morning, they talked.


End file.
